Now the time has come. My things are packed and the room is tidy. The only thing missing is my last article here to say goodbye. To tell how this experience here was, whether my expectations were fulfilled, what was good or bad. That is really not so easy. When I think about my first day, the day I arrived, it seems like it was just a month ago. The excitement, all the unknown. How can it already be half a year ago? But then I see the many fully written pages in my travel diary and remember. Six months in Italy, in Jesi. Six months with Caritas. Six months of adventure, boredom, joy and sadness. Six months of growing friendships. Never in my life have I met so many people in a short time, never in my life have I been so much on my own. In Rivestiamo I was able to be creative, master the hustle and bustle in the kitchen together with wonderful people, drowned in clothes at Magazzino and moved furniture. I walked at sunsets and sunrises and when the sun was at its zenith. I climbed mou
When I first met Paul in my first month here in Jesi, all I saw in him was the homeless man. Wrapped in a thick, dirty winter coat against the cold, with a cap on his head, desperately trying to keep his dreadlocks together. Very poor of foot, sleepy eyes, unhealthy complexion. A friendly, open smile on his lips. When I met Paul for the second time, in the middle of my project, I saw the brother who had gone and wanted to return home. At first loud and wildly gesticulating, then suddenly withdrawn and silent. In this video call, they discussed with his younger brother whether Paul could return to his family. Shortly afterwards I met Paul for the third time. This time I recognised the migrant. What an impact two names have when you identify with the religious one but the other is your official, state one. At the embassy in Rome, they tried to apply for a passport for his home country. When I met Paul for the fourth and last time, I saw Paul. Ready to leave, ready to go to his homeland,